Time
by Gargoyle13
Summary: Based on a song, set the night before the Knights leave on the final mission. One Knight's reflection on the passage of time.


Disclaimer: You know I don't own any of them. Lyrics and music by Sarah McLachlan, which I do not own either.

A/N: I heard this song and became obsessed with it…over a couple of days, the fic was born. If you've not heard the song, it is off _Afterglow_ by Sarah McLachlan, an amazing album. Song lyrics are in _italics_.

* * *

**"Time" by Sarah McLachlan**

_Time here,  
all but means nothing, just shadows that move across the wall  
They keep me company, but they don't ask of me  
they don't say nothing at all.  
And I need just a little more silence  
And I need just a little more time  
But you send your thieves to me  
silently stalking me  
Dragging me into your war  
Would you give me no choice in this?  
I know you can't resist, trying reopen a sore_

_Leave me be, I don't want to argue  
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone  
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you  
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for_

He lay on the cot, covered with a thin blanket he did not need. He had not undressed before laying down – heavy boots dangled over the side, crusted with dirt and debris. The shadows crossed the wall and he watched them, silently. Emptiness. Strangely, he felt…nothing. Time passed slowly, as he watched the moon outside the window and listened to the voices of his brothers, blocking out the Romans. Time was all they had here – there was always enough time, at least off the battlefield. On the battlefield, there was never enough; brothers fell and died in the blink of an eye before there was time to reach them, to defend them, to comfort them. He blinked away the water as he thought about how many had fallen since he'd come to this island.

Tonight their commander had assigned a final mission. A final fight before their freedom would be granted. How quick would time pass when they met up with the Saxons? Because he knew it would happen. As much as they all hoped it would not, he knew better. The Saxons were out there, where they were headed, and it was only time that would separate them.

He watched the shadows moving. Thankfully, the shadows held their tongues and did not choose to speak tonight. He would not have been able to listen without crying out against them. He blinked hard, holding his eyes shut a moment longer than normal to be certain the water held its place.

He had agreed to the mission to appease his commander. He did not believe in it. He had never believed in any of the missions. He didn't even remember what it was that they were here, fighting for, anymore. Not that he had ever truly understood but at least before, when he'd been younger, he had been able to piece together the fragmented Roman reasoning behind this outpost and the part the Sarmatians played. Now, after all this time, after all these shadows, he no longer grasped the reasons; nor did he care to.

For Arthur, for him, for the Knights, there was no refusing this mission. No refusing any mission. He knew it pained Arthur to keep sending them out on missions that ended with Sarmatians returned lain across their horses. He also knew Arthur's allegiance, above all else, was to Rome – not the Knights who served under him.

This mission would tear deep into old wounds; not that Arthur didn't care or didn't witness their pain. He simply would not let it sway his devotion and duty to Rome.

_You see love-- a tight, thorny thread that you spin in a circle of gold  
You have me to hold me  
a token for all to see  
captured to be yours alone  
And I need just a little more silence,  
and I just need a little more time  
The courage to pull away  
there will be hell to pay  
the deeper you cut to the bone_

_Leave me be, I don't want to argue  
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone  
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you  
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for_

He sighed and looked around the small room, past the shadows. The heavy shield that he'd been issued upon arrival with the Roman crest; he'd promptly stored it under his cot in the group barracks. It stood in a corner, facing the wall, draped with soiled clothing. He'd refused to use the shield, to the disgust of the Roman trainers and blessing of the Sarmatian ones. He had paid for his refusal to adopt all things Roman.

It had been easier to pull away from Roman ways when there had been more Knights. And before Arthur. The previous commander of the Knights had been a Roman bastard; attempting to impose, sometimes brutally, Roman custom and practice among all under his command. When he'd been recalled to Rome some of the Sarmatian elders had made certain his trip was very short. This brought a half-smile. He'd not been allowed to go but had managed to find out most of the grisly details later.

Then Arthur had assumed full command of the Knights; a good commander who sought to do right by the Sarmatians under his command. The imposition of strange customs had ceased and the Knights had breathed easier. They became less problematic as a group, more unified under the Roman banner, ironically enough, because he left them to be Sarmatians.

_Time here,  
all but means nothing,  
just shadows that move across the wall  
They keep me company,  
but they don't ask of me  
they don't say nothing at all._

_Leave me be, I don't want to argue  
I'd just get confused and I'd come all undone  
If I agree, well, it's just to appease you  
Cause I don't remember what we're fighting for_

Fires were being extinguished as dawn approached. Time had slipped away. Quickly, silently the shadows ceased their procession, departing one by one until he was alone again in the small room. He closed his eyes, willing back the water – damming it behind tightly squeezed eyelids and golden lashes. It swelled and crested; he shook slightly with the effort of retaining control.

A knock at his door lent strength to will. He stopped shaking and the waters subsided, resumed their place within the well, as always.

'Gawain?' Galahad's voice was hushed as he cracked the door slightly. 'It's time, Gawain…'


End file.
